Typical Day
by Ciircee
Summary: Ever wonder what Team Rocket is really like?


He lifted his head and brought it down to the desktop again in a resounding thud

Dedicated to Zelda, from whom I stole Clay and Allison. Circa: Un-aired Episode. 15.

Color Me Shocked

Typical Day

He lifted his head from the desktop and brought it down again with a resounding thud. He did it again. And again. He had a pretty good rhythm going. 

"Hey Butch. Rough day?" On the down-stroke. Butch didn't lift his head, just let it lay on the desk. He did, however, open one eye. 

"Clay?"

"Yeah, Butch?"

"Go away before I kill you." It wasn't exactly an idle threat. 

"Understood. Uh…Boss wants to know if you've got the report on what, uh, happened today ready to go."

Clay left while Butch re-established his rhythm. Report-thud. Today-thud. Shudder-thud. Butch wondered if he could bang his way into forgetting the day. Forgetting the morning actually, seeing as how it was just past noon.

"Butch, got a light?" Butch didn't even bother to stop. Clay's partner, Alison, could go to hell. He brought his head down hard enough to wonder if it were possible to bang his way into forgetting Team Rocket. Alison wandered away when she got no response. He thought she did, anyway. Maybe he'd hit his head hard enough to make her disappear. A small smile curved his lips as he continued to do his level best to put his head through his desk. 

"Butch." James's voice and Butch actually **_**did_ lift his head. James was sitting on a corner of the desk. On top of the report, actually. Butch banged his head on the desk again. Stupid report. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened. You know that, right?" Butch slammed his head down sharply enough to make the room spin.

"Why us, James. Why me? Can't you and Jess pick on Clay and Alison once in a while?" He groaned.

"It just _wouldn't_ be the same." Butch wasn't looking at James, but he could hear the grin in his voice. He bounced his head against the desk, relatively lightly. 

"James." 

"Oh you know it wouldn't. You'd be crushed if we didn't." Tongue-in-cheek, Butch knew, absolutely knew the look on James' face.

"James…"

"And I couldn't _bear_ to make you cry…"

"James!" He lifted his head and met his friend's eyes, which were sparkling with barely repressed laughter. 

He sighed. No use being mad at Jimmy, they'd been friends for too many years. "I set my van on fire for you. My _van_ James."

James grinned, unrepentant. "Don't think we didn't appreciate it, either, Butch."

"I set my van on fire and drove it into a _police_ station for you." He paused, then winced. "On the pretense of trying to capture some twerp's eevee."

"An unevolved eevee at that." James added, helpfully. "You and Cass bungled it nicely. I almost didn't suspect that you weren't actually trying to steal the damned thing."

Butch whacked his head down on the desk again. "Don't even go there, buddy." He laughed, suddenly. "You and Jesse make it look so damned simple, too."

"Years of practice." James told him, "If you and Cassidy didn't spend all your time doing ultra-secret spy stuff looking for the Research Team's lost experiments, you too could be the ultimate failure."

"Leave him alone, James." Jesse said from the door. "He saved our bacon this morning." She strolled across the room and placed something cold and soothing against the throbbing lump of Butch's forehead. "Thanks for that, by the way."

Butch reached up and took hold of the ice pack. "Thanks, Jess."

"Don't mention it. I figured you could use it, especially since I could hear you all the way down the hall." She smiled. "It provided a very nice back-beat to our paperwork session."

"You guys turned in your pokemon already?" Crap. He was way behind.

"No." James told him, sliding off the desk. "We've still got that to go through. We made a report on this morning too." He scuffed to floor with his foot. "If your cover's blown it's our fault so…Anyhow, paper work." James moved to the door. "Take it easy, buddy." He waved and left.

Jesse grinned after her partner and then at Butch. "His way of saying 'thanks' I guess." Butch nodded. They were men; if they could get away with grunting and pointing it would be all the conversation they ever used. "Hey, I dropped in to check on Cassidy when I grabbed the icepack." 

"It's broken, isn't it?" 

"Yep. Cast clear up to her elbow." Jesse shook her head. "Her writing hand too." 

The icepack made a nice buffer, Butch thought, as he began to, slowly, get his groove back.


End file.
